A Shot in the Dark
by Bard of Prey
Summary: Chapter EIGHT is UP! When Barbara and Dinah are taken hostage during a school shooting, its up to Reese and Helena to get them and the other students out alive.
1. Paradise Lost

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~A Shot in the Dark~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Chapter One  
Paradise Lost  
  
Their words still echoed in his mind. With a razored edge they sliced into his once tender soul, now made hard with the scar tissue from many such attacks. He thought he had dulled himself to the pain, but he was wrong.  
  
Darkness, slowly descending to shroud what little good will remained in his frozen heart. There were some, a very few, who treated him with kindness...but even they were suspect. Were they really being kind, or simply mocking him with their supposedly good intentions?  
  
He pushed those thoughts from his mind, intent upon his task. Each magazine was filled with bullets. Each bullet had a name. He'd thought this through, considered it. He knew what he had to do...the only thing he could do.   
  
Revenge. Sweet. Bitter. Wrotten. Cold. Revenge.  
  
They would regret the day they ever mocked him, belittled him, judged him. They would spend the rest of their miserable lives tortured by the nightmares he would leave forever seared into their young minds. No one was safe. No one was to be spared. He wanted blood. He would have it.   
  
***  
  
"Hello, Wade." Barbara murmured with a half smile, never bothering to raise her eyes from the test she was busy correcting.  
  
"How did you know it was me?"  
  
She glanced at him above her glasses. "Lucky guess." She'd heard him coming. She knew the sound of his footsteps, the way he tread upon the school's linoleum, the way he distributed his weight on the uneven floor. She'd learned the trick from a Sherlock Holmes story...and still delighted in using it whenever she could.   
  
"I wanted to talk to you about something."  
  
Barbara laid aside her red pen and looked up at him, head cocked. "What about?" Was this going to be another attempt at a date, at deepening their relationship? Couldn't he understand? He was handsome...sweet...but they were from two entirely different worlds. She could never tell him the truth about her nightly activities, and the day would come when her muffin cap excuse would cease to be good enough. Men were never a concrete feature in Barbara's life. They came and went with the tide, and she had come to accept it with as much faith and understanding as a lonely woman could.  
  
"You know Chad Foster, right?"  
  
She nodded. "Chad Foster? Quiet. Introverted. A little 'geeky.' Star pupil, the kind of student about which every teacher dreams. He's a senior with an incredible genius. Unfortunately, most of the students don't appreciate that like we teachers. Why do you ask?"  
  
Wade shrugged. "He got into a fight the other day. It was nothing serious...It wasn't even his fault. Half the school said the other kid started it. It's just that...afterwards, he seemed pretty quiet. Wouldn't say a word. Probably embarrased. But, you know, I am the guidance counselor. It's my job to make sure the kids stay sane through high school."  
  
"I don't envy you." Barbara smiled, but sensed some worry behind Wade's eyes. "Somthing else?"  
  
He shook his head. "No. It's nothing. Just do me a favor, be careful around Chad."  
  
"I assure you, Wade, I can take care of myself just fine."  
  
***  
  
Sixth Period. Barbara tried not to grimace. This was the class she dreaded more than any other. In the privacy of the teacher's lounge, they were known as the Bad Asses...the students with behavioral problems. They were the students that disrupted every class, bullied every weak or intelligent student. They were the students that made every teacher's life a living Hell. Of course, in the beginning, she had found the Bad Asses a challenge. Now, having learned the hard way that she was no Michelle Pfiffer...she was happy just to hold their attention long enough to assign the homework. Not that they would do it.  
  
A light knock on her door took her attention from the nearest trouble maker. Lucky for him. She'd been ready to assign a detention. "Dinah, do you need something?"  
  
"Yeah." She answered, glancing warily at the rows of rough looking students. "Um...I forgot that the English field trip was today. I mean, it's a trip to a slaughter house because of that Jungle book. Well, not the Jungle Book, but the book The Jungle by Upton Sinclair. You know, the one I had to read for English?"  
  
Barbara chuckled. "I'm familiar with it."  
  
"Yeah, well, um...the field trip's today and I totally forgot to turn in the permission slip that you were supposed to sign. I'm sorry to interrupt your class and all, but could you?" Dinah tucked a lock of blonde hair behind her ear and smiled at her guardian hopefully.  
  
"I already did. Mr. Hughes told me you were the only one without a permission slip on file. I filled one out for him yesterday afternoon. If you'd gone to class first, you probably would have found that out."  
  
"Oh...I'm sorry."  
  
"It's all right." Barbara smiled. "Have fun..." Her voice trail off as a slight s caught her attention from the hallway. She froze, eyes trained on the open door and the empty corridor which lay beyond. Silence. And then...  
  
A series of gunshots thundered through the school building, followed by screams of pain, fear, and confusion. Barbara reacted with the reflexes, not of a veteran crime fighter, but of a teacher caring only for the well being of her students. She pushed Dinah out of the way and slammed the door to her room shut, throwing the bolt and pulling down the blind to cover the door. Her hand shot out to dim the lights. "On the floor." She commanded. "Underneath your desks. Nobody make a sound. If we're lucky, he won't know we're in here."  
  
They'd had drills for this sort of thing. Worried parents, fearing this sort of tragedy might befall their own children, had demanded some sort of preparation. The school had thought it silly. It would never happen at New Gotham High School. Never. But, it had.  
  
The gunshots were drawing closer. Students still in the hallway, and those who had escaped the classrooms of unprepared teachers were falling victim to the gunman like skeet. Barbara drew in a deep breath. Each shot was shattering the psyche of her students. This venue of learning, this sanctuary would no longer feel safe to them. The hallways, the classrooms, the blood would be bleached away, but the ghosts would forever haunt them. Dinah huddled beneath an unoccupied desk, trying to look unafraid, but Barbara could see the fear in her eyes.  
  
The door knob rattled.  
  
Barbara held her breath as if even that slight noise might alert the gunman to their presence. One of her students screamed, and Barbara closed her eyes in frustration. She knew what would come next.  
  
The gunshot blew the door knob off the locked door, and the gunman stepped inside.  
  
"Good afternoon, Miss Gordon. I know this is normally your class, but since I'm the one with the firepower, I decided I'd teach the lesson today." 


	2. To Serve and Protect

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~A Shot in the Dark~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Chapter Two  
To Serve and Protect  
  
"Good afternoon, Miss Gordon. I know this is normally your class, but since I'm the one with the firepower, I decided I'd teach the lesson today."   
  
Barbara tried to fight back the surprise from her features, but she couldn't. She had prepared herself for a student, for any student. Chad was her number one suspect, but she couldn't be sure. Instead, she found herself staring up into two familiar eyes, though the look was very unfamiliar. "Mark..." She whispered, disbelief clearly ringing in her voice as she spoke his name.  
  
The man narrowed his eyes at her. "Back up, Barbara."  
  
"Mark...don't do this." She answered softly. "You don't want to do this."  
  
"You don't know what I want, Barbara. You don't have any idea. Everybody, back against the wall. I want you lined up in front of the windows." He glared at the frightened students, pumping his rifle. They needed no other prompting. Barbara hesitated a moment before following his instructions and backing up against the windows with the teenagers.  
  
"Huntress, this is Oracle, do you copy?" Barbara kept her eyes fixed on Mark in the reflection of the windows, though she did not turn her chair to face him when she reached the spot he'd assigned to her. "Huntress, I need you. Talk to me." She sighed. Of all the times for Helena to go off line...  
  
"She turned it off, didn't she?" Dinah asked softly, her blue eyes full of a fear she was trying desperately to hide.  
  
Barbara nodded. "I'll keep trying to raise her when I get a chance...but it may be a while." It may be too late.  
  
Dinah took a deep breath and squared her slender shoulders. "I can take him."  
  
"No, you can't." Barbara commanded firmly. "You won't engage that man in any form of combat, do you understand? He's dangerous. If anyone is going to take him on...it'll be me."  
  
"Barbara...who is he?"  
  
The older woman pushed her glasses up on her head to regard her ward carefully. "His name is Mark Foster. He's..."  
  
"Did I give you permission to chit chat during my class, ladies?" Mark patronized from the front of the room. He was seated on the edge of Barbara's desk, watching the students with hatred burning in his eyes. "You can talk after class...if you're all still alive, that is." He stood and circled the desk to write on the chalkboard. "Today we're going to learn about J-U-S-T-I-C-E. Justice."  
  
"Justice? Is this what you call justice? Killing the same innocent children you were sworn to protect?" Barbara spat, spinning her chair to face her assailant.  
  
"Innocent! You call these little vampires innocent? They feed off the innocent. They're guilty as Hell." He leveled the rifle at Barbara. "You all are."  
  
"Of what?" She asked, meeting his gaze with a confidence that actually calmed several sobbing students.  
  
"Of harming Chad...You're all guilty. Every last one of you. If you didn't throw the stones, you watched everyone else do it and never once tried to stop them. You...You're the worst. Chad loves you, Barbara. You're his favorite teacher. He looks up to you...but you just let them pick on him. You don't care about him. He's just a face in a sea of students. You'd sooner see him drown than risk your neck by standing up to these bullies. You make me sick!"  
  
Barbara remained silent for several moments. What do you say to an insane man whose crazed ramblings don't sound all that crazy? "I'm sorry." She managed finally. "You're right. We should have done more. I should have done more. But, if you're going to take this out on anyone...take it out on me. You said I was the worst. These children are nothing. Let them go. Let them all go...and you can take out your anger on me. I'll be an example for your cause, just let the rest of them go."  
  
"No!" Dinah shouted, stepping out of her place in front of the window. "I'm not leaving. If she stays, so do I."  
  
Mark raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two women. "Well...what do we have here?"  
  
***  
  
Detective Jesse Reese pushed his way through the crowd of people gathering just in front of the police tape. He sprinted across the open ground and stopped just behind a row of police cars. The call had come in only minutes before. Every parent's worst nightmare...every cop's, too. "What's going on, Captain?"  
  
The Captain looked up from the school blue prints spread out on the hood of a squad car. "What does it look like, Reese? A damn car washing fundraiser? We don't know how many are injured...We don't know a whole Hell of a lot, to tell you the truth. One of the students that escaped was level headed enough to call us. Gabby something or other. Says there was only one shooter...older man, over six feet, big, dark..."  
  
"Detective Foster? You don't think..."  
  
"It's a possibility."  
  
Reese exhaled slowly. "Shit. A cop shooting up a school. It can't get much worse than that."  
  
The Captain glanced up at the young detective again. "Wanna bet on that, Reese? One of the hostages is a teacher, Barbara Gordon."  
  
"Gordon? Any relation to..."  
  
"She's his daughter."  
  
***  
  
"Who are you, kid? You don't look like you belong here."  
  
Dinah squared her shoulders, threw her head back and answered him with her best impression of Barbara's confidence. "Dinah Redmond." Despite her attempt at bravery, she was trembling.  
  
Mark raised an eyebrow. "You're Barbara's little brat. C'mere."  
  
"Don't you touch her." Barbara hissed, moving foward.  
  
Mark cocked his head at her. "What are you going to do about it, run over my foot?" The man snickered and grabbed Dinah's   
wrist. She pulled back, her eyes seeking out her guardian. Barbara shook her head. If Dinah fought back, there was a good chance she or someone else would get shot. If this were student, it would be one thing...but Mark was an ex-Marine turned Detective, and there was no way a teenager could over power him. Even Dinah. "Put this on." He commanded, handing her a lightweight NGHS Letter Jacket.  
  
"Mark...I swear, if you hurt one hair on her head...I'll kill you." Barbara declared coldly, the look in her eyes was proof that she meant what she said.  
  
Mark hesitated before holding the jacket out to Dinah, again. "I'm only trying to be nice, Babs. The girl's shaking. She must be cold."  
  
Dinah looked between the article of clothing and the gunman for a moment before taking it from him and slipping her arms inside the holes. She frowned. It felt wrong...almost, heavy.  
  
Mark smiled, a wide, toothy, saddistic grin. "Good. Now, I expect everyone's full cooperation." He pulled Dinah closer, showing the inside lining of her coat to the class. Then, with a smug smile he zipped it closed.  
  
Plastique. C-4. Barbara hung her head. Things had just gone from bad to worse. He'd just fitted her foster daughter with a 'Bomb'er's jacket. 


	3. Trial by Fire

Chapter Three  
Trial by Fire  
  
The Captain paced in front of his assembled troops, a SWAT team outfitted in riot gear from head to toe. His expression was grim, though a gleam in his eyes made Detective Reese wonder if he wasn't enjoying his moment in the limelight. "I know this is hard for you. This man bleeds blue. He's one of us, but its because he's one of us that we have to take him down. We can't negotiate with a Detective, with a Marine. He knows the tricks as well as we do, maybe better. We only have one course of action...that's to storm the building now, take him by surprise and bring this to a quick, and quiet end."  
  
"Sir." Detective Reese interrupted, stepping up from behind the SWAT team. "You just said he knows the tricks better than we do. He was a Marine. Won't he be expecting us to storm the building?"  
  
The Captain's eyes narrowed angrily. "What would you suggest we do instead, Detective?"  
  
"I'm not really sure, but considering what happened to his son...I don't think Foster has much to lose. He's a loose canon. You can't just assume he's going to give up when you break down his door with a stun gun and a night stick...and if you use anything more dangerous, there's going to be an even bigger bloodbath in that school than there already is. Tact and tactics are two entirely different things."  
  
"The boy's right, Bill."  
  
The Captain paled considerably. "Uh...Commissioner Gordon, Sir. This is a surprise. I didn't think you'd come down here."  
  
"You didn't?" The Commissioner raised an eyebrow. "You must not think my daughter means much to me."  
  
"It's not that..."  
  
"What is it then?" He asked gruffly, tucking his hands into the pockets of his overcoat.  
  
"This situation...it's delicate. It's too personal. You...shouldn't get involved." The Captain answered haltingly.  
  
Jim glared at the man. "Too personal? My daughter is trapped in that school with a gun toting, badge wearing, lunatic...and you think it's too personal." He spun the Captain towards the perimeter and the people gathered there. "Do you see them? They have daughters, sons, sisters, brothers, friends trapped in that building, too. They don't know if they're alive or dead or dying...but I can promise you that they're only concern is the well being of their loved ones. That's what we all have in common, and that's why this case is not TOO personal. I'm not going to allow you to storm that building and harm any of them! This will come to a peaceful conclusion if I have to give myself to him in exchange. Do you understand me, Captain?"  
  
"Yes, Sir." The Captain answered softly, his eyes averted.  
  
"Good. Then, you are relieved of your command. I'll be heading this operation from here on out. Good bye, Captain." The Commissioner watched from behind his glasses as the Captain stalked to his car. Satisfied, he turned to regard another. "What's your name, Son?"  
  
"Detective Jesse Reese, Sir." Reese answered respectfully. This man was more than just the Police Commissioner. This man was a legend. He'd heard a few rumors once, about the Commissioner's involvement with the Batman, but he usually took those with a grain of salt. Besides, Jim Gordon was a good cop amid a sea of corruption, that alone made him a legend worthy of respect in Reese's eyes.  
  
"Well, Reese, seems to me, you and I are the only level headed cops in this whole God forsaken city. Do me a favor?"  
  
"Of course, Sir."  
  
"First, drop the Sir and call me Jim. Second..." He glanced towards the perimeter again. "I'm going to have to go throw the pirranha some fresh meat. I'm going to feed them the usual diatribe. But, while I do, could you call a friend of Barbara's and have her get down here as soon as she can? Don't tell her what's going on. She's got one hell of a temper, and I don't want her to pop until I'm around to keep her from going ape shit on us. Understand?"  
  
"Yes, Sir...uh, Jim."   
  
The Commissioner almost smiled. "Well," He handed his cell phone to Reese. "Her name's Helena Kyle. She's three on the speed dial. Just tell her to get down here ASAP. If she's not at her apartment, try the Dark Horse."  
  
Reese tried to mask his shock, but couldn't. "Helena...Helena Kyle?"  
  
Jim grimaced. "Heard of her, have you?"  
  
"I...kind of...know her."  
  
"Really?" The man raised an eyebrow and grinned. "You know my daughter, too?"  
  
"I think we've talked a couple of times." Reese murmured.  
  
"Good, than you are the perfect man for what I have in mind. Can you do a Jamaican accent?"  
  
Reese shrugged. "I don't know..."  
  
"We'll figure something out. Just call Helena and meet me back here in five minutes. Oh, and Reese?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"You ever killed an innocent civilian?"   
  
Reese shook his head. "No, Sir."  
  
"Good. Let's keep it that way."  
  
***  
  
"For those of you with an IQ in the single digits, what I just showed you beneath Dinah's jacket is a bomb. More specifically, it's a plastic explosive called C-4. Think of it as silly putty that bites back. The trigger mechanism is not quite as simple." Mark flashed a cruel smile at Barbara, before rolling up his sleeve. "Ever seen a runner's watch that keeps track of heartbeats per minute?"  
  
Barbara's face paled even further.  
  
"Yes, I think you have. You see, this watch knows what my normal heart rate should be. If it goes up too high, down too low...or stops all together, Goldilocks and New Gotham High School are going to go out in the fireworks display to end all fireworks displays. So, let's hope the cops don't decide to storm the building and take me out."  
  
"I think that's what you want." Barbara murmured. "You want to go out in a blaze of glory...but is that what Chad would want? He gets picked on, but do you really think he's going to want to live the rest of his life knowing that his own father killed his classmates...destroyed his school, and mentally raped every student in the school district."  
  
Mark shrugged. "I don't know, Babs...maybe you should call him and find out. You knew he didn't come to school today, didn't you?"  
  
"I kind of guessed you wouldn't come on a day Chad was here."  
  
"Chad's never coming to school again. In fact, you can't even call him to get his opinion about what I'm doing. He's dead. He killed himself last night after those bullies stole his last shred of human dignity. And, now, I'm going to send you all straight to Hell."  
  
***  
  
Helena felt a sinking feeling tighten around her chest as she neared the school and saw the mob of people there. She raced across the parking lot, finally finding Reese with the last person she expected. "Reese? Jim? What the Hell is going on? It looks like a war zone."  
  
"That's because it is." Jim answered solemnly. "This morning, New Gotham High was attacked by one of our Detectives, a Mark Foster whose son committed suicide last night after a fight with a bully. Helena...He's taken Barbara's class hostage. Gabby thinks Dinah was there when Mark broke in...We're doing all we can to get them out safely, but...I wanted to make sure you were here to be with them when they get out." Or, more importantly, if they didn't make it out alive.  
  
Helena barely let him finish before she was marching off back through the crowd at the police barrier. Reese shrugged at the Commissioner and raced after her. "Helena, what are you doing?"  
  
She had her finger on her transceiver, trying to pick up something. "Oracle? Barbara? Are you there? Talk to me. Come on." She glanced behind her. "I had my comset off, Reese. They were probably trying to call for help this entire time and couldn't because I was offline. I'm going in. There's an old entrance near the gym...they may not even have it blocked off, yet. I'm going to go get Barbara and Dinah out, and there's nothing you can do to stop me."  
  
"Helena, you can't just go in without a plan. This man is dangerous. Let us handle it this time, please."  
  
Helena paused midstep. "A plan? You want me to take the time to make a plan? I always thought you and Barbara would get along. I'll tell you the same thing I've told her. I don't have time to come up with a plan. For all we know, he's playing Russian Roulette with them in that room right now. I don't want them to die because I had my comset off. I'm going in, so either help me...or leave."  
  
Reese sighed, his eyes catching movement just ahead of them. "Helena, wait." Her grabbed her wrist and pulled her back.  
  
"What?" She snapped, following his gaze.  
  
"I think...." Reese didn't have time to finish as an explosion rocked the ground beneath them, and a fiery plume of crimson shot high into the air above New Gotham. 


	4. The Way of the Gun

Chapter Four  
The Way of the Gun  
  
"Barbara!" Helena screamed racing across the lawn to the gymnasium. Reese dived after her, knocking them both to the ground.  
  
"Huntress, how many times have I told you not to yell into the comset...or to use my name...or turn it off?"  
  
"B...Oracle? You're alive? You're not dead?"  
  
"Deaf, yes. Dead, no. Believe me, Helena...that scream could awaken the dead. My ears are still ringing."  
  
"What...What just happened?" Helena asked, pushing herself up enough to look at the burning gym.  
  
"I can answer that." Reese pushed himself up beside her. "The Captain had the SWAT team over there. I saw them just before they went inside. He was going to go through with his plan even after Commissioner Gordon ordered him off the case. I guess Mark laid traps, and the SWAT team set one off. I don't think its safe to enter that building until we know where he's set his traps."   
  
"Great." Helena muttered. "So, how do we save them if we can't get inside?"  
  
"Did I hear Reese say my father is there?" Barbara asked softly.  
  
"Yeah..."  
  
"It's standard procedure to shut off the electricity and telephone lines into a hostage situation. Make sure he leaves the electricity on...and the telephone line to my computer online. Send him to the school website...the webcams page. I'll do the rest...Gotta go."  
  
Reese waited in silence for a moment. "Helena, are you okay?"  
  
She nodded. "We've got to find a way into that building, Reese. We have to."  
  
Reese hesitated before slipping an arm around her shoulders. "We will. Together, the four of us will."  
  
***  
  
Dinah picked herself up off the ground, where she had fallen when the explosion rocked the school. For a second, she thought she'd blown up. That fear gone, she retreated to the windows beside Barbara. "Are you okay?"  
  
"Don't you think I should be asking you that?" Barbara answered softly.  
  
Dinah shrugged. "You'll get it off, I trust you."  
  
Barbara smiled, touched by the teenager's faith in her. "You're right, I will." She paused, eyes flitting to her computer, located just behind Mark Foster. "Do you think you could do something for me?"  
  
"Yeah, sure. What do you need?"  
  
"Turn on my computer with your power. But, don't turn on the screen. I'll guide you through it."  
  
"Through what?"  
  
A shadow of a grin crossed Barbara's face. "Mark Foster is about to go live on the internet...and he doesn't even know it."  
  
***  
  
"Why would I want to go to the school website, Helena? I'm not interested in the history of the school or their calendar of events. I want to know what's going on in there."   
  
Helena sighed dramatically. "Trust me, Commissioner Jim, you want to check out the website." She paused. "They have a webcams page."  
  
Jim froze. "You don't think Foster would leave the camera on..."  
  
Helena shook her head. "No, but I think someone we both know and love would TURN it on."  
  
Jim chuckled to himself. "That's my girl." He declared with pride thick in his voice. "All right, let's check out this website of yours." Helena spun the laptop towards Jim. The Commissioner frowned. "The camera's offline."  
  
"Give her a sec. I guarantee, she's workin' on it."  
  
The motley trio remained in front of the laptop for five minutes before the webcam sparked to life and classroom appeared in color on their screen. Jim looked like an extremely proud papa as he turned away from the computer. "I'm going to get my boys analyzing that footage. Maybe we can find out just what kind of firepower he has at his disposal."  
  
***  
  
"Hey...what are they lookin' at over there?" The reporter jabbed her cameraman with her elbow.  
  
"I'm not sure, Summer." He mumbled, raising his camera to his eye. After a moment, he pulled it away with a frown. "Looks like the NGHS website."  
  
Summer Gleason folded her arms with a puzzled expression. "Okay, so the Commissioner's daughter is being held hostage in her classroom and Jim and the boys are surfing the web? Something doesn't seem right here. Let's go check out this site."  
  
Her cameraman sighed and trudged along behind her with his camera in tow. "It's probably nothing, Summer. Maybe there's a map of the school or something."  
  
The reporter sighed. "Believe me, I have a sense about these things. There is something interesting on that site, I guarantee it." She climbed into the news van and sat down at one of the many computer terminals. Summer chewed on the end of her pen as the page loaded. "This is going to be good....Hot damn! Do you see what I see?"  
  
"I see..."  
  
"That's her classroom! Gordon's. She's got a live web feed. We are about to win a Pulitzer. This is going to be syndicated. Call the station, tell them I've got live footage from INSIDE the hostage crisis." Summer smiled. "What a break...."  
  
***  
  
Barbara watched her captor intently. He was just sitting there, his attention divided between them and the television coverage of the stand-off. She couldn't begin to understand what he was feeling...couldn't hope to possibly connect with him and end this. For once, she felt powerless, and that upset her beyond words. Slowly, she guided her chair to the front of the room, coming to a stop beside him. "Mark, what do you hope to accomplish by all of this? What do you want?" She asked with a sympathetic note to her voice.  
  
"I don't want anything." Mark spun a hand gun on the desk. "My son is gone. No amount of money is going to make that pain go away."  
  
"But killing these children...killing me, will?"  
  
Mark shrugged. "It's worth a try."  
  
"For what it's worth, and I know it's not worth much...I'm sorry. You're right. I should have helped Chad while I had the chance. I failed him. I failed you. These kids...they don't know what they're doing. They don't realize their actions have consequences. I know when I was their age, I didn't. Did you?" Mark didn't answer, so Barbara plunged ahead. "At this age...they think they're invincible. They think nothing can touch them. You've succeeded in showing them that they're mortal. I don't think any of these kids will say another cruel word without considering the outcome first."  
  
"Maybe that's not good enough for me."  
  
"What do you want?"  
  
"Revenge."  
  
Barbara hesitated, reaching out a hand to touch his shoulder. "The darkness, the emptiness inside of you, revenge won't make it any better. You think it will, but it won't. It'll only make the darkness swallow you whole. If you lay that gun down now, walk out with me. I'll testify on your behalf. The jury will be sympathetic. You don't deserve to go to prison for the rest of your life. You need counselling. We'll get you help, real help. I know people who can talk you through this. They can't make the pain go away, but they can at least make it hurt a little less. Please...Mark, don't do this."  
  
Mark ran his fingers through his hair, his expression one of confusion and pain. His eyes lifted to her. He looked ready to speak, to surrender, to lay down his gun and leave. Barbara smiled saddly, holding out her hand for the pistol he had been fingering. But to her surprise, instead of handing it over...he picked it up, leveled it at her heart, and fired. 


	5. Deliverance

Chapter Five  
Deliverance  
  
Barbara watched the gun rise and felt her blood run cold. Guns. Ever since the Joker...she couldn't even watch movies with guns without shivering and breaking out in a sweat. It had become a phobia that she was still trying to defeat. She had remained calm, focused through this entire crisis, only because she was more concerned about her students than herself. Now, staring down the muzzle of yet another gun...she could barely breathe. With every ounce of self control, she forced her eyelids open, ready to stare her death in the eye. No fear.  
  
The shot shattered her spirit, her whole body prepaired for impact. Nothing came.   
  
The smell of smoke and burning plastic stung her nostrils. Frowning, Barbara turned her head enough to see her bullet-ridden webcam smoldering behind her...  
  
Mark took a step closer, pressing the muzzle of his gun to Barbara's temple. "You think you're so smart...but you're just a stupid bitch. Take a good long look at that webcam, Barbara. Because if you don't start following my rules, your head is going to bare a remarkable resemblance to it. I'm not taking your shit anymore. You're not my friend. You've never been my friend. You talk like you understand....but you're just trying to get me to step down. I'm going to fry for this, Babs. I might as well take all of you with me."  
  
Barbara took a deep breath. "Than shoot me."  
  
Dinah gasped. "Barbara..."  
  
"You heard me, Mark. If you're going to kill me, get it over with."   
  
Mark pulled the gun from her temple and shook his head. "At my leisure, Babs. At my leisure. I'll just let you worry about when it's going to come...and it will come. Get back over there with the rest of them...and don't even think about coming up here again."  
  
***  
  
James Gordon growled deep in his throat, leaning so close to the computer screen that his nose almost touched it. "Jacobson, get your men ready to go...if that man fires on her, I'll kill him myself."  
  
The gunshot rang out clear, and terrifying. The Commissioner's face grew bright with rage.  
  
Reese stared in disbelief as the webcam footage became snow. Silently, he stepped down from the surveillance van. "Helena, come here." He paused, not daring to meet her eyes. "I need you to raise Oracle on your radio." He needed to know if she was still alive before Jim had a heart attack.  
  
Helena raised an eyebrow at him. "Okay..." She pressed one finger to her ear. "Oracle. Oracle, do you copy?"  
  
"I'm here." Her voice came over the radio, soft and just a little shaken.  
  
"Now, what?" Helena asked.  
  
"You mean...she's okay?" Reese didn't wait for an answer. "Jim...Jim...don't go in there yet, she's okay. He didn't shoot her."  
  
"Shoot her?" Helena echoed, following him back into the van. She listened to something through her transceiver. "He shot out the webcam behind her."  
  
Jim frowned heavily. "How did you know that?"  
  
Helena smiled innocently. "It's all over the news. Summer Gleason just showed it on the air. You mean you didn't realize that was why the footage died?"  
  
"Somebody needs to get in there..." Jim murmured, running his hand through his shock of white hair. "Those kids have got to be hungry, if I could just get them to order a pizza..."  
  
"Huh?" Helena frowned at the older man. "You need them to order pizza?"  
  
"Pizza?" Barbara's voice echoed into her transceiver. "I know what he's got in mind. I don't know if he'll listen to me, again...but I'm workin' on it."  
  
"She's probably working on it right now." Helena stated, receiving a strange look from Jim Gordon.  
  
"Reese, you ever meet Det. Foster?" The Commissioner asked, gesturing for Reese to follow him back out of the van.  
  
"No, Sir. The Department's pretty big. He works vice. We've never run into each other."  
  
"Good. Can you do a foreign accent?"  
  
"I don't know." Reese shrugged. "I've never actually tried. Why?"  
  
"Well," Jim returned his hands to his coat pockets. "Some years back, I had a friend...really more of a partner who would have been on this situation like white on rice. He excelled at disguises...fooled me a hundred times. I need someone in there. Barbara's handling it well, but I need a cop. And, to tell you the truth, you're the only one I trust."  
  
Reese was blown away. "I'll do my best. But, this 'partner' of yours, did he wear a badge?"  
  
Jim chuckled. "In a manner of speaking...though it wasn't the kind of badge you or I sport...He was a self made man, and New Gotham just isn't the same without him."  
  
Reese nearly asked if the guy dressed as a big giant bat, but feared that Jim would doubt his sanity if he did. So, he let it slide. Jim worked with the Batman. Barbara was a school teacher by day and a cyber-crime fighter by night. Apparently, Jim knew nothing about Helena's nightly activities or 'meta-human' abilities...And that Kreskin kid, Dinah? What the Hell was up with this family? They were almost as screwed up as his. Almost. "I'll do whatever you think needs to be done, Jim."  
  
"Good, I was hoping you would say that. Come with me."  
  
***  
  
Dinah looked around the room uncomfortably and raised her hand.  
  
Mark glanced up from playing with his assault rifle. "Yes, my little blonde bombshell?"  
  
She flinched. "Um...Mr. Foster, Sir...School would normally be out by now. We didn't get to have lunch, and I know I didn't eat anything for breakfast. I'm really hungry..."  
  
"You're going to die, what does it matter?" He spat.  
  
"Even death row inmates get last meals." She answered. "I would love to have a pizza right now."  
  
"Pizza? Not fillet mignon or salmon steaks?" He snorted. "What am I saying, you're a kid." Mark sighed. "If this turns out to be another trick, I'm going to kill your teacher in front of you...and I'm going to make it slow and painful."  
  
"You'll have to use the phone line that goes into my computer." Barbara spoke from her position in the back of the room. "The other lines have been shut down."  
  
Mark narrowed his eyes at her. "Fine. It's your death sentence."  
  
***  
  
"He's turning off the explosives at the front door just long enough for you to get in there...Be careful." Jim whispered, patting the man's shoulder.  
  
The pizza delivery man nodded, balancing the stack of pizzas in his arms. He walked up the front walk, in through the door, and down the hallway to Barbara's classroom whistling softly to himself. Without hesitation, he raised a fist to the door. "...Daylight come and me want to go home..." He sung softly as the door knob moved.  
  
Dinah pulled open the door hesitantly, shocked at the sight that met her. The man was anything but clean. Old fashioned wood sandals adorned his dirt covered feet: long, tattered jeans hung loosely around his legs: a brilliantly colored tie-dyed shirt, faded with gunk and grime and frayed at the edges covered his chest: a mop of black dreadlocks and a brightly colored cap completed the ensemble. He reached up to pull his rose colored, John Lennon-style glasses from his nose. "Hey! You order dese pizzas, mon?"  
  
Dinah did a double take of the man's face, her expression flashing from confusion to recognition, and back again. "Reese?" She breathed. "Is that you?" 


	6. From the Oustide Looking In

Helena leaned against the side of the surveillance van. This was maddening. How did Barbara do it? How did she just sit there behind her monitors while her friends were in danger? How could she stand to take such a passive role? Helena wanted to burst in there, beat the man senseless...and then send him packing to some tiny prison cell where he would become intimate with Bubba or some equally disgusting prisoner. Instead, she was trapped out here, listening to the sounds in her transceiver, trying to guide the police in the right direction. "C'mon, Barbara, I'm not cut out for this Oracle gig." She muttered, turning away from the van.

Out of the corner of her eye, Helena caught sight of someone familiar. She really had nothing better to do. So, she walked back across the parking lot, crossed the police line and approached a pretty teenage girl who was trying desperately not to cry. "Hi, Gabby."

The teen looked up, pushing her curly blonde hair aside. "Oh, hi, you're Dinah's...like sister, right?"

Helena nodded. "Yeah, I guess you could say that." She looked the girl over critically, raising an eyebrow at her red rimmed eyes. "You doing okay?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm fine." Gabby stated, looking towards the school building.

"You don't have to be tough with me, Gabby. There are people I care about in that school. I know how you feel."

Gabby's head snapped back to face her, her lip quivering. "We were going on the field trip, right? Well, everyone had turned in their permissions slips but Dinah. She wanted to wait and check with Old Man Hughes before she went down to see Ms. Gordon, just to let him know she was here and getting permission." She trailed off as her voice threatened to crack. Self consciously, she raised a hand to one eye and tried to wipe away the offensive tear. "I told her Hughes wouldn't let her go get the slip signed...He's strict about that crap. So...she went there first. And then...and then, that psycho came in and started shooting..." Despite the front she'd tried to put up, the teenager could no longer restrain her tears. Without thinking, she stepped into Helena's arms and leaned her head against the woman's shoulder.

Helena searched the young woman's face, a piece of her aching with every tear Gabby cried. She understood those tears. She'd cried tears very similar to that when her mother was killed. She understood the guilt, and she knew it was misplaced. Gabby's movement took her by surprise, hesitantly she returned the hug. "Gabby, it's not your fault. You didn't know what was going to happen, how could you? You were the smart one. You got out, and you got help. You wouldn't have done any one any good in there." Pausing again, she lifted her hand from Gabby's waist and gently pushed the hair away from the girl's face, wiping away a tear in the process.

Gabby once more looked up, her eyes full of question. "I...I didn't know what else to do."

"You were the first one to call 911. The other calls came in five to ten minutes later. You did the right thing...Dinah's going to be okay. She's tougher than you think."

"What about Ms. Gordon?"

Helena chuckled. "Don't be fooled by the chair, Gabby. Barbara can take care of herself. Believe me, if Mark messes with Barbara, he's going to be very sorry." Gabby was soon whisked away by another teenage girl who obviously wanted to 'console' her. Helena smiled slightly and turned back towards the police van.

"What you did for her, that was nice."

Helena spun towards the voice, her muscles tense. She rolled her eyes the moment she saw him. "Yeah, well, the kid was upset. You want me to just let her stand over there and cry alone? She's a friend of Dinah's."

Commissioner Gordon shook his head with silent amusement, tucking his hands into the pockets of his overcoat. "Listen, Helena, I know you get off on being this broody, smart ass...but I'm not buying your bull shit right now. You forget, I was around when you first came to stay with Barbara. I saw you then. I know you're not 'Miss Thing.' I look at you and see a frightened teenage girl, who feels completely alone in the world."

"If you're shooting for a Kodak moment, you're not going to get it." She answered, glancing over at him angrily. "Maybe I don't want to broadcast my feelings to all of New Gotham." She gestured back at the cameras. "Maybe I don't cry."

"You cry." Jim stated knowingly. "I've seen you cry. I know you love Barbara almost as much as I do. You and I both know she can handle this, but that doesn't make it any easier for us to take, does it?"

"I just want to do something!" She finally declared in exasperation. "I can't just stand out here and wait to see if Barbara comes out alive or in a body bag. You're her father, how can you just stand here and not do anything!?"

Jim shrugged, gently taking her arm and leading her away from the assembly of news crews, police officers, and bystanders. "When Barbara was younger, she got into trouble a lot. It wasn't that she was a bad kid, quite the opposite actually. She just had a knack for stepping into sticky situations. And, when she did, she always had to make everything better. In the beginning, I wanted to make her stop. I wanted to keep her safe and protect her from all of the bad men who might hurt her. But, Barbara's an independent woman with a mind of her own and a pretty damn good head on her shoulders. She reacts well under pressure. She's physically capable of defending herself...even in the chair."

"Fact is, she knew the risks she took when she walked into danger...and she was old enough that I just had to let her do it, whether I wanted her to or not. If I held her back, she would have spent the rest of her life resenting me for stopping her, and wondering what she might have been capable of doing. I know its hard to stand back and watch those you love put themselves in grave danger...but you know Barbara. You know the kind of woman she is. She is not going to let this man get the better of her. I trust her to come out of this unharmed, and bring all of her students with her. Honestly, I feel a hell of a lot better about this because I know she's the one in there. She's not going to let him win. You know that as well as I do."

"Ay, Mon, I got y'ur pizzas right 'ere." Reese called, looking past Dinah.

Mark Foster looked up with a smile. "Well, you should bring them right in then. The kids must be starving."

Reese carried the stack of pizzas through the door and laid them down on the desk. "I did not 'ave de hands to bring 'de zoda...Dey outside de door."

"I'll help you get them." Mark rose from his chair, handgun in hand and followed the disguised detective out the door. He took one of the cases from the man's hands and carried it inside. "Here we go, kids. Eat up. Thank the nice delivery man."

"Thank you." Came a few frightened replies.

Mark hooked an arm around Reese's neck and placed his gun to the man's temple. "Because of the good Detective Reese, you're going to get Dinner and a show. I hope you like gritty cop dramas...cause this is going to get messy." 


	7. Through the Looking Glass

Chapter Seven Through the Looking Glass

The classroom fell silent, every young eye was filled with fear. They had already watched their classmates and teachers fall to this madman's bullets, and now they were to watch the murder of a police officer.

In the back of the room, two green eyes blazed with fury. He had gone far enough. He had tortured these children all day long, and someone had to stop him. No more. His attention was focused on the students, feeding off of their terror. She used this to her advantage as her slender hands dropped to the sides of her chair.

A silver flash of light soared effortlessly through the air of the classroom.

Reese cried out as it struck his leg and the knee jerk reflex made him lose his footing. He crumpled to the floor. A fraction of a second later, the silver light once more flashed through the room. This time, the disc struck Mark Foster's hand, slicing into the skin and muscle. He cursed as his muscles spasmed and his grip on the gun loosened.

Dinah was out of her seat in a second, the gun mysteriously flew from Mark's hand as if by its own power. The students could hear it strike the lockers outside. The other guns, in a wall of firearms against the chalkboard also fell away, far from his grasp. She crossed the room quickly, striking out with her fist. She hit the large man in the sternum and watched him sail back a little into the chalkboard. He grunted, balled his fist...and stopped. "What's the matter? You don't hit girls?" She glanced down at the letterman's jacket... "Or are you afraid of hitting the explosives?" She hit him again, her expression grim. "That's for my friends."

Mark gasped, choked, collapsed to his knee on the floor. A thin line of sputum and blood trailed from his lips.

Reese was rising to his feet when he saw the movement out of the corner of his eye. He could not react fast enough.

Mark's hand had dropped to his ankle when he fell, and in a movement that was nothing but a blur to those present, he had Dinah in his arms, a knife pressed to her throat. "I don't want hit the explosives, Babe. But I don't give a shit if I get blood on 'em."

***

"This could not be more beautiful. I could not have planned it better." The man stirred his tea and sipped from it slowly, savoring every drop. "The good Detective, the war hero, the loving father and doting husband....a madman, a murder, a nightmare to plague the children of New Gotham well into the next decade. He will be a legend...as shall we, when the time is right." He gave a slow, but bright Cheshire cat grin at the woman seated to his left. "My love, you are witnessing history. You watch, the good detective is only the first of many victories. There will be more, oh so many more."

"Isn't our world amazing? Look at the media. The sentence first, and the verdict afterwards. He shall be put to death, and then declared guilty before them all. Its too bad they won't know the truth until its too late." He chuckled. ""I have a dream, my darling. The Bat. No one knows where he is at. The city is ours for the taking." He poured a bit more water into his cup, dipping the tea bag in silence. "Mark Foster...He was part of my dream, of course - but then I was part of his dream too. Vengeance. Sweet. Cold. Wonderful, vengeance. He was not man enough to claim it on his own...but with a little help, he's a killing machine. Oh yes, He was a part of my dream, but I am a part of his nightmare."

***

Dinah's hands instinctively rose to grab her captor's arm, and as her skin touched Mark's, her world faded into the monochrome world of the human psyche.

The classroom looked almost the same, though the students were now gone...and the was another figure in the room, a man. Dinah frowned, walking slowly towards him, her movements cautious. With a gasp, she recognized him.

The man was an exact copy of Mark. Although, he looked younger. His hair was cut in military fashion, he was in some kind of dress uniform complete with white gloves and a sword at his side. At least, the gloves had once been white. His uniform was torn and bloody, his face covered in bruises and lacerations. Still, he held his head high. His eyes met hers for a moment, a silent apology passed between them. He opened his mouth to speak, but blood trickled from the corners. Dinah took a few more hesitant steps towards him, finally squatting by his side. "What happened?" His answer was a bloody gurgle. Dinah gasped in horror as she realized the man had no tongue. "Who...who did that to you?"

"The madman did it. His is the only voice Mark hears."

The answer surprised her. It had come from a separate corner of the room. Dinah spun towards it, ready to fight. She stopped, surprise etched on her face. "Chad?"

"No." The young man laughed and shook his head. "More like Jiminy."

"Jiminy?" Dinah frowned. "I'm confused. What's going on?"

"Mark, he's out of control."

Dinah snorted. "Tell me about it. He shot up my school. He could have killed my friends. He fit me with a ten pound bomber's jacket. The guy's nuts."

"You don't understand. Mark is not in control. Mark is a prisoner. He is a victim."

"He's a psycho."

The young man sighed and shook his head. "No, the only madman is the puppeteer who pulls the strings. Mark is just a puppet in his show."

"Okay..." Dinah was only getting more confused. "How do I stop him?"

"You don't. He's as dead as his son. You have to kill him, and you have to stay away from his blood."

"His blood? Does he have AIDS or something? Is he sick?"

"Kill him, Dinah. Kill him before he kills anyone else. I cannot control him anymore." 'Jiminy' gestured to the battered soldier by the wall. "Neither of us can. We fought for control, we lost."

Dinah shook her head. "I can't kill him. We don't kill."

Dinah felt the blade against her throat as the world around her suddenly came back to life in full technicolor. The young man's final comment still echoed in her ears.

"He is already dead, Dinah. Now, you must put his soul to rest."


	8. Bad Blood

Chapter Eight Bad Blood

Commissioner James Gordon had taken up pacing in a small area in front of the school. Helena could not know the agony he felt at this moment. She thought he was cold, emotionless...but he was well versed in hiding his emotions. One didn't become police commissioner by wearing one's heart on one's sleeve. Barbara was his only weakness...his pride and joy. She was the one ray of sunshine in an otherwise mundane existence. Without her, his life held no meaning at all. She had been so vibrant, so full of life. She had put herself in harm's way a hundred times, but always seemed to weasel her way out in the end.

That night. He would never forget it. He had arrived at the hospital demanding blood, and that the doctor's save the light of his life. They had, though for the longest time he felt guilt for her predicament. Something had changed in her. She was no longer the girl who patrolled the city in black, red hair sailing like a banner behind her. She was someone else. For all his dreams and hopes and faith, she still had not shown him who. How did a father earn his daughter's trust? How could he make her see that he would not stand in her way? Even now. Even after the failure that cost her her legs. It was her life, he could not live it for her. Yet, she still treated him like an outsider. He was not worthy of her secret, he was always on the outside of her confidences.

Helena watched him from several feet back, silent. Barbara insisted her father was a teddy bear, a big, gruff teddy bear. Helena didn't see it. Then, again, she didn't know much about father's, or what they were supposed to be like. Her jaw stiffened. She would give Jim points for effort, he had tried...but she wasn't sure he'd liked the idea of Barbara 'adopting' her. She could see it just beyond his eyes. Whether it was a flaw in herself or Barbara, she didn't know. Didn't care, either.

Jim stopped pacing, glanced back at Helena and offered a half smile. She was hiding something....He knew she was. Someone had to be doing Barbara's leg work. Batman disappeared when Bruce Wayne left New Gotham, and Helena Kyle was Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle's daughter. Reasoning took him the rest of the way. He was no fool. She'd never admit it, but she knew exactly what Barbara was up to. He slipped his hands into his overcoat pockets and sighed. "When will you learn to trust me, Barbara?" He just hoped he lived to see the day.

***

"You even think about throwin' that frisbee and I'll fillet your little girl like a fish." Mark warned, narrowing his eyes at Barbara.

She let the batarang in her hand fall to the linoleum. "If you hurt her...I swear to God I'll kill you."

Dinah's eyes grew a little larger. Apparently, even Oracle killed sometimes...or at least threatened to.

"Let her go." The redhead warned with a voice as fiery as her hair.

"I don't think so....she's my ace in the hole. You won't hurt me so long as I've got my knife to her throat."

Dinah's mind was still muddled, awash with the images from her vision. What had they meant? His blood...she couldn't come in contact with his blood...but why? It made no sense. None of it.

Barbara's expression was hard, impassive. She had taken enough of this for one day...She'd been seated in the back of the room, passively, staring down the demon that threatened not only her foster daughter, but her class for far too long. Batgirl would have taken him down in the beginning, but things were far more complicated for Oracle. She itched to pull out her escrima batons, to floor the man in a matter of seconds. But, he was an ex-Marine; he was armed and dangerous; and her students were here to witness the entire event. Secret identity or not, she had to do something. "Don't be afraid, Dinah. Fear's all in your mind."

Dinah frowned, her eyes dropping from her guardian to the blade at her throat. She knew what Barbara was getting at. Her lips grew taut with concentration.

Mark grunted as his hand jerked, and the blade fell into the soft flesh of his stomach.

Dinah backed away from him, anxiously searching her skin and clothes for his blood. Reese moved to approach the man but she caught his arm. "You can't. You can't touch his blood. Trust me. There's something wrong with it."

Mark pulled the knife from his abdomen and pressed a hand to it to staunch the bleeding. "You little bitch....You think this is going to do you any good? Do you? I've got the hallway in front of this room rigged to blow....anybody tries to come in here, they're going to send us all to Kingdom Come. And, you know what else? Your little jacket is on a timer. Even if I don't die...we're all dead."

Barbara sat up a little straighter, her eyes narrowed with fury. "When is it rigged to explode?" She demanded.

Mark smirked. "That's for me to know, and you to find out."

Hidden below the folds of cloth, the timer was nestled among the plastique, carefully counting down the seconds until the explosive finally served its purpose. Luminescent numbers glowed a brilliant green against the inky darkness of the jacket's interior. A display which had once ticked down hours, was now showing only the minutes until a blazing Armageddon took down New Gotham High School and anyone within a ten mile radius. 


End file.
